More Than What Meets the Eye
by whathobertie
Summary: There's more to him than what meets the eye. She can see it; has seen it—and she has no doubt that it's only because he let her see it. Cal/Gillian, romance/humor.


**TITLE:** More Than What Meets the Eye**  
>GENRE:<strong> Romance/humor**  
>CHARACTERS:<strong> Gillian, Cal**  
>PAIRING:<strong> Cal/Gillian**  
>RATING:<strong> PG-13**  
>SPOILERS:<strong> None**  
>WORDS:<strong> 1,100**  
>SUMMARY:<strong> There's more to him than what meets the eye. She can see it; has seen it—and she has no doubt that it's only because he let her see it.

* * *

><p>There's more to him than what meets the eye. She can see it; <em>has<em> seen it—and she has no doubt that it's only because he _let_ her see it. It's like the needle in the haystack he let her find, the one ray of sunlight in the pitch-black darkness he let her catch.

She holds on to it, because it's so precious and rare. She keeps it in her heart and it's why she stays.

But what meets her eye now is him with her. The long-legged brunette who seems so smitten with him that she forgot all about her low-cut dress and what it reveals of her cleavage. Or maybe she didn't. She was a suspect, but now she obviously isn't. (Cal seemed _very_ sure of this.)

The woman looks down at him, he grins—and Gillian wonders: Does he ever let others see it, too?

She keeps watching from the area of Heidi's empty desk and studies the scene with an almost analytical method, dissecting and making sense of it. It's not jealousy; not per se. She wouldn't want him to look at her the same way he looks at the other woman, grin at her with the same damn cockiness. It's more like a sudden fear of maybe one day not being the only one who knows about all that lies underneath.

The woman touches his arm and he lets her. She can't hear their words, but she can hear the accent rolling off his tongue, making the brunette move closer towards him in order to take in more of it apparently. He cocks his head, demonstrates confidence with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans, coming closer and then getting further away again in small, calculated steps. Like a jaguar tiptoeing around its prey.

He knows what he's doing and Gillian knows that fact just a little too well.

This is barely the first time she's witnessed that kind of scene. Five, ten, twenty, maybe a hundred times already. She laughs a little to herself and shakes her head, because he really is _that_ predictable. At least when it comes to beautiful woman (sexual ADD indeed)—but he isn't at all when it comes to many other things.

The things he lets her see.

There's some more touching, some more gesturing and emphasizing the words that come out of his mouth. He grins again broadly, then wiggles his eyebrows. Oh dear, this really is one of the blunter demonstrations.

After a while the woman fishes a small piece of paper out of her purse, followed by a pen and a seductive smile with which she writes down something using his upper arm for support. He had gladly offered and studies her close-by face while she scribbles down what can only be numbers.

They touch again when she hands him the note and with a swift movement he lets it disappear in his jeans pocket. It takes a while for them to part, but in the end they do with a hinted kiss on the cheek and the strangely alluring expressions of two love-bitten teenagers.

At least that's how Gillian sees it, but who is she to tell. It's certainly been a while since he had demonstrated this kind of courtship behavior right here at the office.

As the woman walks away towards the exit with hips swaying from left to right, and right to left with calculated nonchalance, his eyes follow her—fixed on parts of her body where her dress is just a little too tight as well. Gillian can see him grin, even though he is mostly facing away from her. Maybe it's just that she knows he must be.

He remains in his spot for a while, even though the woman is long gone. She remains in her spot as well, not exactly sure whether she should go to him and take a little dig or quietly disappear inside her office around the corner.

In the end it's him who moves first—walking a little further away from her and quickly stopping by a trash can to ditch a small balled-up piece of paper that just came from his pocket. Then he just continues walking along the floor like nothing has happened.

It's her cue to move as well and with long strides she follows, until she appears right next to him. He catches her silhouette from the corner of his eye and smiles warmly. It's the kind of smile only reserved for her, she realizes as they continue walking in unison.

"Did you just throw away her number?" she asks without beating around the bush.

"Did you just spy on me?" he simply turns the tables on her and grins with genuine amusement. "I thought you had work to do, Dr. Foster."

"Seems like you just spent ten minutes of your work time flirting with a former suspect," Gillian shoots back with an evil grin of her own. "So did you just throw away her number?"

He stops in front of the conference room and so does she. "Those numbers—they litter up my pockets. Only so much a man can take, love."

She rolls her eyes, only catching a tiny fragment of his boastful wink following the words. "The tax report numbers are on your desk. If you're not looking at them, I'll show you how much more a man like you will have to take. From me."

He nods his head. "Sounds interesting. I'm inclined to not look at the numbers." Dry wit—attractive and annoying all at the same time.

She lets an exasperated sound escape her throat from deep within. It's what he does to her; and yes, she likes it. "I'll see you later," she says and rolls her eyes once more just for the emphasis.

"Pretty sure you will," he replies and grins with almost as much cockiness as demonstrated on his earlier prey.

Then she leaves him there, walking away with only just realizing that her hips sway as well.

When she turns around for a split second, he is still there—watching her with intent and purpose, and the smile only reserved for her. His gaze is not unlike the one she witnessed before, but she can see that in fact it couldn't be further away.

She wonders when he will be ready to admit out loud that he can see it, too.

**THE END**


End file.
